


ink smeared on a ripped page

by impravidus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Ben Parker Lives, Coma, Deaf Character, Depression, Dissociation, Elseworlds, Elseworlds Crossover Event (CW DC TV Universe), F/M, Hurt Peter Parker, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Life Swap, M/M, May Parker (Spider-Man) Dies, Multiverse, Parallel Universes, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2020-12-07 18:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20980730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impravidus/pseuds/impravidus
Summary: unfinished peter parker fan fiction ideas.(read the notes if you want more context to the stories!)





	1. untitled coma fic

**Author's Note:**

> Peter wakes up from a coma and finds out that the last eight years have been a coma dream. Tony is in his life because of the spider mutation in his genes. I can't remember if I wanted this to be a canon divergence or a fix-it fic.

Peter is jolted awake, a gasp escaping his lips as his torso bolts up from its recline. The doctor in the room drops her platter of tools, staring at him with wide eyes. “We have a twelve thirty-seven,” she reported into her watch, hurriedly rushing out of the room. He furrowed his brows in confusion. He was in the medbay of the compound, sure, but why?

He racked his brain trying to remember anything. He was sitting in enhanced-proof cell with vibranium cuffs as he overheard five different arguments of who got to take his case and where they would take him after the Mysterio reveal. He went to sleep on the stiff cot and then he… he woke up here? 

He was hooked up to three different machines all beeping and buzzing in their own ways. The room had a distinct and overwhelming scent of hospital, and the fluorescent light was too bright, especially too bright for his senses. He laid his head on the tough pillow and stared at the tiles on the ceiling. _ New ceiling tiles,  _ he noted. His attention piqued when he heard footsteps approaching.

Suddenly he felt like his world was crumbling around him. Time stopped as he stared at the man standing at the door who casually scrolled through his StarkPad. “Hello, Mr. Parker,” he greeted.

“Mr. Stark! I… but you… how are you here?” He finally said after his moment of babbling.

“Right. Well you were bit by one of the test subject spiders at Oscorp which sadly put you into a coma for the last year. However, the normal hospitals didn’t have the resources to accommodate your condition, so I took you in.”

“No I mean… wow that’s weird… but how are you still alive? You…” he trailed off.

“Right. There was that kidnapping scare just around the time you went into your coma. I’m still alive!” He did jazz hands. “Got out with just a couple of broken ribs. But, I want to hear about you. A coma your length should be leaving you completely debilitated, but your cells are in constant regeneration. How do you feel?”

Still staring at him with disbelief and shock he stammered, “I feel fine. Honestly, everything is the same. It’s a little bright in here. Friday, would you mind bringing it down to forty percent?” He called out.

Tony’s eyes widened. “How did you…” he didn’t continue. “So you’re having some light sensitivity? Anything else?”

“Everything is the same, Mr. Stark. If I could just get up and moving I could really test to make sure everything is fine.” He then mumbled, “if anything I’m having some sort of psychotic break.”

“Well I’ve notified your uncle and aunt and they should be here in an hour. In the meantime, I hope you don’t mind me running some tests…”

“What do you mean my uncle?” he interrupted.

“Your guardians, Ben and May Parker?” he said slowly. “Alright, we need to check for basic memory…”

“My uncle is dead. He died when I was fourteen.”

Tony frowned. “Peter, he… you  _ are  _ fourteen.”

He laughed, not in a humorous way, but more in a ‘what are you talking about’ way. “I’m not fourteen. I’m D twenty-one.”

“What do you mean by D twenty-one?” 

He gave him another odd look. “Dusted.”


	2. idontwannabeyouanymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter wakes up in a world where he was never Spider-Man. I planned to have Harley be Iron Lad and Peter's boyfriend in this universe, and for him to take the role of everything Peter has done in the MCU but with little twists and changes. It would follow Peter learning to live this new life, falling in love with Harley, and I wasn't sure if I wanted it to be like Peter reveals it to Harley and he gets upset that he isn't his Peter but also I wanted there to be a happy ending where he doesn't go back to Post Far From Home life because he's happy but maybe there were like bad things that happened in this world because he wasn't Spider-Man. Not sure.

Was this hell? Because it certainly felt like it.

Being interoggated for terrorism and third degree murder at seventeen was definitely not the plans Peter planned to have that Friday morning, but there he was, adults shouting on the top of their lungs about what should happen to him. The evidence was irrefutable at the moment and the only alibi poor Peter Parker had was that he was indeed the one at the scene of Mysterio’s death. He stared at his hands, digging at dry skin in his cuticles as he overheard every conversation between the different groups of people all insisting that they be the ones to take over the case. He chewed at the inside of his mouth, the copper taste of his blood not lasting long as his skin repaired itself. 

His life was a broken record, each day stuck in rooms, handcuffed by vibranium cuffs, staring at walls and eavesdropping. He closed his eyes, a warm tear falling down his cheek.

“I wish I never was Spider-Man.”

.-~*~-.

The world was quiet. It was eerily quiet. It was almost so quiet that Peter couldn’t even fully register where he was. His room was dim and lifeless, the color almost drained from its walls, the vibrancy torn away from the dark blue hue.  _ Dark blue?  _ Since when were his walls dark blue? 

As Peter began to regain consciousness, he squinted his eyes, struggling to focus on anything. He couldn’t even see past his hand. 

“May?” he called out. 

“She’s at work, bud,” he heard a rough male voice respond. He froze.  _ No. No, it couldn’t be…  _

Peter rushed to where he assumed the kitchen was in this unfamiliar apartment, bumping his head into the doorframe. He heard soft footsteps hurry over as he groaned in pain.

“You left your glasses on the couch when we were watching Top Gun last night.” Hands grazed his face as thinly rimmed glasses were perched atop his nose. His vision cleared immediately, but that’s not what Peter was focused on. Instead he stared in bewilderment at the man standing before him, holding a hand to help him up. “Well come on, now. I’ve got eggs on the skillet.” 

Peter, speechless, grabbed his hand, the touch lingering for he was unsure if it would dissipate into some sort of illusion. He stared at the man once more and pulled him into a tight hug. “I…”

“Oof! Well I never say no to one of the world famous Peter Parker hugs, though you haven’t given me one of these in eons.”

“Uncle Ben I… I don’t understand.” Peter’s eyes wandered around to examine the apartment, unable to detect any signs that this were a threat or mirage.

“That’s what happens when you stay up ‘til two watchin’ movies with me and only get five hours of sleep. Here, do you want some juice? Get some sugar to boost you awake?”

Peter mindlessly nodded, his body moving without him as he didn’t move his gaze from the stubbled man. He sipped on the orange juice, mind racing.  _ Is this is a dream?  _ A possibility, though he wasn’t one to lucid dream.  _ A wish came true?  _ Yes, because this definitely is a Disney movie.  _ Another illusion?  _ He didn’t sense any danger. Then again…  _ An alternate universe?  _ Now that might be going somewhere. Now if he was in an alternate universe, did that mean that this Peter was in his universe? The poor sap had a lot coming for him if he did. 

“Peter?”

He looked up, the man with more salt than pepper hair looking to him with concern. “Yeah, Ben?”

“I asked if you wanted toast with your egg. I made it dippy, just the way you liked it.”

Peter smiled, unsure if it was genuine considering his undeniable shock. “Thanks.” He glanced at the television playing the news, furrowing his brow at the broadcast. 

_ “Iron Lad at it once again, taking down a three person robbery at the local bank. The perpetrators were taken into custody and there were no property damages.” _

“Iron Lad?” Peter asked aloud.

“Bane of my existence as always. It’s like us police have no jobs at all! We appreciate his work for the universe, but this city? That was my jurisdiction. Now Tony Stark gets his prodigy out into the streets making the NYPD powerless guys whose only power is a fast car and a gun while he’s got a whole ass suit. Ugh. That guy gets on my nerves. But you know that.”

“Yeah, of course I do,” Peter agreed, still processing. What didn’t he know?

“Do you want to do something today? We’re still runnin’ low on cash, but we could always take a walk around town. Window shop. Check out what’s in the junkyard for one of your projects?” Before Peter could exclaim yes, Ben snapped his finger and gave him a lopsided frown. “Oh right, you have plans already, don’t you?”

“I do?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, Harley is comin’ over.”

“Who?”

He laughed again, clearly taking that as a joke. “Go get dressed. He said he wanted to take you somewhere nice, so you better look nice.”

“I’d much rather spend the day with you,” Peter said honestly.

“We have tomorrow, bud. Don’t want him to come here and find you in your pajamas, do you?” Peter shook his head no. “Now go on!”

Peter nodded again, wandering into his room again.  _ What was going on?  _ He looked around his room for clues.  _ No suit, no Stark phone, no Stark computer, no nothing.  _ He turned around to keep searching but his reflection made him freeze.

He was frail and thin, the only definition in his figure being his ribs poking out. He was… he wasn’t… He needed to do some research and he needed to do it  _ now. _

First he Googled “Spider-Man” on his dumpster computer. 

_ “Ben Reily, the Spider-Man, brought down by local vigilante “Iron Lad.”  _

Weird.

He Googled “Sokovia Accords.”

_ “Avengers split due to the Sokovia Accords…” _

Okay. That was the same.

Next, “The Blip.”

_ “Tragedy strikes the world after what scientists are referring to as “The Blip.” _

Alright. 

“Tony Stark death.”

_ “Tony Stark dead after the Mandarin…” _

No.

_ “Tony Stark assumed dead after trip to Afghanistan…” _

No.

“ _ Tony Stark. May 29, 1970 - present.” _

What?

“Okay, what else is different?” Peter muttered.

_ “Queens’ Local Hero, Iron Lad, takes down Adrian Toomes…” _

“Iron Lad. Iron Lad Iron Lad Iron Lad… who is this guy…” Peter suddenly felt a pair of muscular arms wrap around his waist and a pair of chapped lips pressed against his neck. Confused, he pulled away quickly.

“Sorry for scaring you, darlin’. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

Peter stared at the teen, flabbergasted. “Uh…”

“You’re not dressed, but Ben did mention you guys had a late night last night. How was Top Gun? As good as I told you?”

“U-uh yeah. It was great.”

“Well I’ve got a great day planned for today. I’ll go hang out with Ben while you get ready.” He pecked him lightly on the lips and his hand lingered on the back of Peter’s back before he exited out of the door and closed it gently.

“Weird. Weird weird weird.” Peter knocked his palm against his head softly. “What is going on? What did I do?” Realizing that there was no way he could talk his way out of whatever this guy…  _ Harley. This must be Harley…  _ whatever  _ Harley  _ had planned, he threw on a nice button down, sweater, and jeans without any rips. 

He ran through the facts he pieced together over and over, trying to fill out the holes and piece together why things were so different.  _ I’m not Spider-Man. I’ve been replaced by Iron Lad. I’m not with MJ. I’m dating a guy. His name is Harley. Correlation? None yet. _


	3. one night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MJ gets pregnant, she doesn't tell him about the kid, but they meet again when her job moves her back to New York. He realizes it's his kid, he bonds with the kid and teaches her how to use her powers, MJ and Peter... so ok. I'm not sure if I wanted them to fall in love again or not, I don't really know.

That night was a blur. Hands in hair, skin on skin, the taste of chapstick and cheap beer lingering on their lips. It was a confession. It was a goodbye. It was a way to part ways before their lives led them to diverge down different roads. It was passionate but isn’t everything when you’re a teenager with raging hormones and overwhelming lust? It was one night that threw her life off the tracks she had painstakingly set for herself.

MJ found out when it was too late to abort, not that she would ever consider that an option. Though parenthood was a societal norm that was forced upon women for value and worth in their adulthood, this was still a part of her. A part of  _ him.  _ And even though she wanted to live her life, to go to college and make a damn mark on the world, she couldn’t anymore. Because now she was part of something greater, something that meant more than her dreams. It was now her job to shape this tiny human, and make sure that this tiny human was a good big human when it grew up. She wanted it to know that she was a good mother, despite her beliefs that self worth shouldn’t be based upon what others view you as. Because this was different. This was hers. 

By the time that she had become pregnant, Peter had been still in the whirlwind that was the media. Even after Quentin Beck had been revealed to be a sham after his resurgence from the dead, another attack on the world with his drones, and inevitable confession and arrest, that didn’t erase the year that Peter Parker was framed for murder. The year of his identity being revealed and him having to drop from the face of the earth and going to private homeschooling at the Stark Tower.

MJ and Ned kept their ties with Peter despite his illeged murderous tendencies, vigilantism, and his persistence of space for their own safety. That’s how they ended up celebrating together in a small graduation party, Peter desperately trying to find stability before Ned and MJ went off to MIT and Harvard. 

It was only one beer, being supervised by adults who let the teens have a monitored drink, the alcohol being burned immediately from Peter’s hypermetabolism. It had just been a “until next time” kiss that led to stolen touches to tender caresses. It was a first for them, almost a way to make the moment last longer before their highschool romance died as they entered the real world. 

It was never supposed to end like this.

When she realized there was nothing she could do about the pregnancy, she contemplated for a long time. She contemplated telling her mother about why it happened, who it was with, why she let it happen. She contemplated running to Peter and telling him that she was keeping it, to let the child be raised by one of the best men she knew alongside her, and to let him see his child grow. She contemplated being selfish and letting her highschool enamorment hold him back from his life. But then she realized why she couldn’t.

She couldn’t tell anyone who the father was, not because she wanted to keep it to herself, but because if anyone knew, her child would be the bullseye of a target, ready to be used against the great Spider-Man. She couldn’t tell Peter because at the end of the day, he barely could keep his life together in the tattered mess it had become. He was finally accepted to a college, his name was getting cleared, and one day he would be an Avenger that people would be depending upon. And how could she ever expect him to settle down for her? How could she pull him away from the thrills, the life-saving, and the responsibility that he was just gaining again? How could she expect him to get a nine to five while she, what? Went to college too and they left the baby to be raised by parents who switch off between classes? She could never do that to him, and she certainly couldn’t do that to her child.

So she left. She moved to a little town in Michigan with her mother, and she started over. Her new life began when her little girl was handed to her in that hospital room. A little girl with his bright eyes and bubbly smile. A little girl who was curious and babbled her ear off and never was content with being still. A little girl that she knew Peter would love to the ends of the Earth. Her name was Annie B. Jones, something a little too familiar to Junie B. Jones for her liking, but a name to honor the people who changed Peter’s life. Antonia Benni Jones. Of course this was still MJ’s daughter, so when people asked her why she named her that, she told them she was named after Antonia Martinez, a symbol of oppression and intolerance in post-Ponce Massacre Puerto Rico.

She took online college courses for internal communications, a job that she could do from home. She spent every moment she could with her beautiful daughter, and tried her best to be the best parent she could be. Her mom came around from the disappointment and helped her raise Annie. It wasn’t perfect and it never would be, but it was enough. And she could do it. 

The first time MJ noticed something was different with Annie was when she began crawling. Thank God her mother wasn’t home to find that Annie had crawled up the wall and was stuck to the ceiling, babbling and drooling all over the couch from above. MJ had to get a ladder and lull her to sleep so she would fall into her arms safely. She had to keep a heavy eye on her after that. Then it was the strength. Her tiny baby hands completely ripping toys in half and punching little divets in the wood of the apartment. It had completely terrified her when she had gotten the ability to walk and could jump to heights taller than MJ herself. A baby, MJ could handle with ease. A baby with mutant powers that she had no familiarity with? That was a bit harder.

MJ hated that she had to treat her daughter like a special case. Teach her how to contain her powers, how to keep a secret, and how to never let this information out even though it was something that every child would want to tell their friends. 

Annie was smart -- a little too smart than MJ knew how to handle -- but that meant that she knew the stakes at hand and understood her place. The little girl with her bright brown eyes looked up to the new Avengers with wonder because they were like her. She excelled everywhere she went. She was intelligent in school, she kicked ass on the stage in ballet, and she charmed every heart she came across. 

Annie had a sense of normality in her life, and when she lived as normal as she could without using her powers. The way that MJ explained it to her was that she was like Elsa from Frozen, but instead of holding in her powers and letting them burst, she would wait until they were home and discover the extent on her own and with the guidance of MJ and the minimal information she knew from when Peter had tried to explain it to her those many years ago.

MJ had a sense of normality in her life. She graduated from her online college and had a job at a company that respected her need to work from home, but now that Annie was going to kindergarten, she could actually go into the office for those hours and go home and work the rest of the day from there. She worked longer than most of her coworkers because of this and sadly for her, their normality was about to get a bumpy ride, because her employers were promoting her to their office in New York, and the money it would give her was an opportunity she couldn’t refuse.

So, there they were, packing their bags going to place that MJ swore she would never return to. 


	4. the parent trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parent Trap style fic where Harley and Peter are divorced parents of two children, Oliver and Ben. Oliver lives with Harley and Ben lives with Peter. Ben has spider powers and Oliver inherited all of Peter’s asthma and stuff (because they had a surrogate). Oliver and Ben meet at science camp and try to get their dads back together. Peter is the head of Avengers and Harley is the CEO of Stark Industries. Not sure why they separated.

“Dad, c’mon. It’s just a week.”

“No, it’s two weeks. And I cannot risk having you away from home for two weeks.”

“You’re away all the time!”

“That’s because I’m an adult with an adult job and adult responsibilities.”

“Please?” 

Peter glared at his son, his big brown eyes staring up at him in those puppy dog ways that he knew he used to equip whenever he too wanted something from his parental figures. “Ben, you know how I feel about you going places without a bodyguard.”

“But it’s not like anyone even knows who I am! I’ve been homeschooled since I was born, I barely leave the compound, and the media doesn’t even know I exist. C’mon! It’s not like I’m gonna suddenly slip up about my identity now. I’m fourteen.” He threw his hands up exasperated.

“I don’t want to risk it, Benjamin. End of discussion, okay?”

“But I... “ he really played up the innocent look. “I just want to be a normal kid, you know?”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” he responded firmly. As his father turned around to scroll through his holograms, the teen fist pumped silently while he exited.

.-~*~-.

“Do you have your sunscreen?”

“Yes.”

“What about your bucket hat? You know how your forehead always burns up.”

“Yes.”

“And what about underwear? Do you have extra underwear?”

“Four pairs.”

“Are you sure you don’t need five? You never know…”

“Pops! I’m fine! Seriously.” Oliver gave a tooth smile, despite his creased brow of annoyance. “It’s gonna be fine, Pops. It’s just two weeks.”

“I know, but it’s all the way in Virginia. It’s a five hour flight, even in a quinjet, and you know that I worry. I mean, what if there’s somehow cross contamination in the kitchen and you get a reaction? Or what if you have an asthma attack? It’s very humid in Virginia and the mold count is high.”

“I have big pockets. I’ll always have an epi and inhaler on hand.”

Harley sighed. “I just worry, bud. You know I do.”

“It’ll be fine. Nothing bad is gonna happen in two weeks.”

.-~*~-.

As Oliver departed from the quinjet, his eyes scanned the surprisingly silent building. The hallways weren’t nearly as bustling and busy as he was expecting. He went to address the compound’s AI, but blanked on her name. “Uh, Monday? No. Wednesday?” He cursed lightly under his breath. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Oliver?”

Eyes widening, he shushed the AI. “How did you know I…”

“Just by scanning your biometrics, I could identify that you are indeed Oliver Anthony Keener. It was quite simple, actually.”

“Well, could you call me Ben?”

“As you wish, Ben.”

The dark haired boy wandered around the seemingly endless halls, poking his head into each room, when he suddenly felt a tap on his back, causing him to jump.

“Sorry. I know how jumpy you are when your sense doesn’t kick in.”

He turned around, trying to hide how stunned he was to not only be in the presence of his birth father, but also Peter Parker himself. “Dad!”

“New look. Kinda digging it, kinda worried that its a sign of teenage rebellion. Either way, thinking the dark hair definitely makes you look like the Italian you are on the inside.” He focused on his eyes. “And a piercing? I shouldn’t be expecting any tattoos anytime soon, right?”

He shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

“Well, come on. I’m skipping like four meetings right now just so we can eat some pad thai.”

.-~*~-.

“Two orders of spring rolls, Thai Fried Rice, Broccoli Sunrise, and Shrimp Pad Thai please.”

“No peanuts in any of that, please,” Oliver added.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “You love peanuts.”

“Not after coming back from camp. We just had way too much and I’m sick of it.”

He shrugged it off, taking a sip of his sprite. “Well tell me all about camp. What did you get up to?”

.-~*~-.

“Pops it’s… it’s so great to see you. You just… I… I missed you.”

He chuckled. “Well then give your old man a hug! I’ve been severely deprived of your hugs in the last two weeks.”


	5. gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, not sure where I was going with this one. May dies, Peter lives with Tony trope.

It was just a day. It was just a normal day. He woke up late, took a quiz in physics, bought a lunch since he didn’t have time to pack one, went to Mr. Stark’s to work on the suit, and went out to patrol for night. It was just.... normal. Until it wasn’t.

He entered his room through the window like usual. Releasing the suit from his body, calling out a casual, “hey Aunt May! I’m back!” 

It was just normal.

Pulling a Stark Industries hoodie on, he opened the door, expecting some cold leftover Thai food to be left on the table or May to be getting ready for work.

He didn’t expect this.

There she laid, the horrible, familiar scent of iron overwhelming his senses. There’s so much red. 

Red used to be his favorite color, but right now? He hated it.

With a weak and shaky step, he stumbled to his aunt, who lied cold and dead on the ground. He held her in his arms, hugging her body close to his chest, desperately wishing he could feel her heartbeat again. He cried and sobbed and didn’t have the energy to consider the option of going after who did this.

He looked at floor and saw the murder weapon, a kitchen knife. It was her favorite kitchen knife to use when she would cut vegetables. He felt disgusted. He felt anguished. He felt completely and utterly distraught. 

Aunt May was the only family he had left. How could she be gone too?

Even with his heightened senses, he couldn’t hear anything over the incessant ringing in his ears. He didn’t hear the police pounding at his door yelling “NYPD, open up!” He didn’t register them shoving him down as they ripped the knife from his hands. He wasn’t thinking as he yelled for them to let him go as he shoved out of their grip to go back to his aunt. To hold her while he still could.

Before he knew it, he was gone. And she was gone. And now he’s sitting in jail cell, cold and hard. 

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me,” he overheard the policemen saying. The precinct was a blur of noises with his enhanced hearing, but he wasn’t really listening to anything right now. He couldn’t. He could barely process what he had just seen. “This has to be a joke, right? It says his emergency contact in Tony Stark.”

“We can’t just call Tony Stark! He’s a billionaire. He’s Iron Man. He doesn’t have time to come visit this kid.”

“Well we can’t just leave this minor unattended and unaccompanied. The lady was his last living relative.”

Peter stopped listening after that. He just stared at the grey walls. Grey. Much better than red of her skin, the white of her skin, black of the knife.

“Kid. Hey, kid. Peter!” Snapping out of his daze, he looked up blankly at the voice.  _ Mr. Stark. At least I have Mr. Stark.  _ “I don’t know what to do, kid. One minute I’m sitting in my lab working on my arc reactor, the next I’m being called by NYPD saying that you’re the main suspect for a murder?” 

Peter didn’t respond.

“Please, just, tell me what the hell is going on.”

Peter didn’t respond.

“This isn’t about our,” he lowered his voice. “Spider friend, is it?” 

Peter shook his head no.

He let out a breath of relief. “Then what’s this about?”

“She’s dead.”


	6. 5 times peter hid his depression and the 1 time he didn't

He didn’t realize what it was at first. He was just so exhausted all of the time. He chalked it up to his long night of patrol, his equation packet for chemistry he didn’t finish until one in the morning, or the minimal amount of sleep he was getting despite how tired he always was. He ignored the exhaustion because he didn’t have time to be tired. He had grades to keep up and a city to save. He was Spider-Man. Spider-Man doesn’t get tired. 

But being tired wasn’t just getting a lack of sleep. It was having no energy. His fights lackluster as he got hit by blows that used to be so simple. Hits that used to be so easy to block. Being tired was not remembering the colors of the the Vietnamese flag or the seventeenth president of America when he was at Decathlon practice. Being tired was losing the motivation to do things he loved. 

He didn’t mean to, but slowly he stopped doing things. It started slow like canceling Lego set nights with Ned or going to bed early instead of watching movies with May when he would just be staring at his phone screen for hours aimlessly. Internet memes didn’t make crack a smile anymore. Tony’s teasing just got on his nerves, not bringing out a sarcastic response but just a silent roll of the eyes. Spider-Man wasn’t a freedom where he would save people and change lives, it was an obligation, a job that he was bound to even when he was too tired to continue.

When his friends like Ned and MJ asked him why he was off his game, he gave the same answer. “I didn’t get enough sleep.” And though that was true sometimes, other days he would go to bed at six and wake up at eight and still be tired. Maybe even more. Tony asked him why he was tired and he blamed a long school day. May asked why he was so tired and he said lots of hard equations at Mr. Stark’s.


	7. untitled amnesia fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh this one had so much potential. Peter has to rediscover his powers after he gets amnesia, a threat comes that he's unprepared for, yada yada. I'm not sure if this would be Endgame and FFH compliant.

The first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes was that everything was so bright. It was bright and loud and his clothes felt like they were ripping at his skin with miniscule itches and pricks. 

“Peter, are you okay?” Ned asked.

“Ned, what… what happened to you? You’re so…”  _ Old?  _ Last time he checked, he was taller than Ned.

“What’s wrong?” Ned questioned again.

“Do I have a concussion? My head really hurts. And everything is so… it’s like so bright in here. How is it so bright in here?” Peter tried to stand, but overestimated the strength it would take to get up and hurled himself to fall forward, catching himself with impressive reaction time.

“Peter, come on. Let’s get you to the nurse.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What happened?”

“You fell from the top of the ropes.” Ned said, helping Peter up.

“How did I even get to the top in the first place?” He asked, confused.

“You… are you okay?” Realizing he had to test something, he asked him, “how do you feel about the Vulture?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I mean, they’re creepy, I guess? They’re really annoying when there’s roadkill. What does this have to do with anything?”

Ned’s lips went agape as he realized what was going on. “I’m gonna go call your Aunt May, okay?”

Peter nodded. 


	8. A Second Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to do a "Peter went back in time and snapped instead of Tony and then creates a new timeline and becomes an anachronism" kind of thing, but I got too attached to the world that I created and I would've been sad that he lost it and that I couldn't explore it so I just never continued writing.

Okay, so maybe the whole intergalactic, magic, glowing wishing well should’ve thrown him off, but it wasn’t his fault that it had it’s magical properties tempting him with its magical allure. In this moment, he was Aurora, infatuated by the spinning wheel, ready to prick his finger willingly on the spindle. 

It was glowing a neon green which was basically evil vibes 101, and somehow it was sending glittery sparkles through the fog that had accumulated around its mossy cobblestone. It was beautiful and he couldn’t stop inching closer and closer... 

Oh, right. How exactly did he get here?

Well, we may have to start from the beginning.

First there was the big reveal which, wow, if he thought when Brad had convinced his acadec team that he was a male escort was going to be the most detrimental blow to his image, this was way,  _ way  _ worse. 

Then there was the aftermath of the big reveal. The press conferences, the wonderful #NotMyIronMan, #SpidermanIsAMurderer, #SpidermanIsInnocent Twitter feud, and the whole graduating early and going into hiding for a year thing. It wasn’t his choice, but when there were targets placed on you and your aunt’s backs and you happen to be the top suspect in a murder investigation of a newly beloved hero, you need to lay low.

There was the trial, the signing of the Accords, and the looming question of “who is Peter Parker?” All of which were driving the media insane.

Then of course, there was the resurgence of Mysterio where Peter’s name was cleared due to Beck’s reckless revenge trip. There was the media backlash claiming it was fake news, the raging fans who knew that he was innocent all along, and a Peter Parker who was no longer a suspected terrorist murderer.

So, what did he do? He lived.

It was odd, getting back into the world after the trial. After everything. He took a break from Spider-Man, went to MIT, got a double major in biomedical and chemical engineering, and made his own name in the science world.

He revolutionized modern medicine in his Junior year of college, reinventing his web solution for medical procedures  _ and  _ utilizing the nano-tech in his old suit to create a new form of surgical tool. He got a nice job in R&D at Stark Industries, climbed up the corporate chain, and almost left behind his vigliante life. Almost.

Then emerged the Young Avengers. These bright eyed, big spirited newbies entered the picture, all eager to learn and possessing great potential, and who better to train them than the man who signed papers he didn’t read depicting that he would do such a thing?

So he put the suit back on, well, behind closed doors. He wasn’t going out. Not yet. Instead, he trained the new generation. He lived a not so double life as he synthesized polymers during the day and dealt with plunky teens and their lack of self preservation, which had him thinking “God, was this what I was like?” every night. 

But then the big threats came. The big space threats. And then all of a sudden, he was on a ship going back to a world he never wanted to go back to. Aliens, evil threat who was going to destroy the universe, the usual schpiel. 

And then there’s now. This green, glowing, mossy cobblestone wishing well. It whispered to him. It told him there was a way he could have everything he wanted. It told him that it could take him back. And then he was falling. Falling down the well with a hard splash.

And then he opened his eyes.

“Parker. There’s no time to explain. Follow me.”

Peter furrowed his brows. “Doctor Strange? Where are we?”

“I’ll explain on the way. Now, come on.”


	9. Elseworlds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like the 2018 Elseworlds Arrowverse crossover, Tony and Peter have swapped lives, making Tony a spider teen in Queens and Peter a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, genius. It would explore them living in these new worlds, avoiding awkward situations, and trying to swap back. It would show Tony getting used to Peter's powers, Peter without powers or an arm, and them using each other's super sides to defeat the villain that swapped them.

The dull scent of floral shampoo and tickle of hair on his chin awoke Peter. It was a peaceful morning. There were no cars honking out of the window and he didn’t hear the upstairs-neighbors stomping in their bedroom or the pans clattering in his next-door-neighbors’ kitchen or… well… he couldn’t really hear anything.

Wait.

He couldn’t hear anything.

He was suddenly jolted awake, very aware that he had no idea where he was. He looked around the mystery room. Well furnished, rustic chic, with an abstract painting of what he could only interpret to be a landscape on the wall. Soft, silk sheets with black and white roses, Mrs. Potts sleeping next to him…

_ Mrs. Potts sleeping next to him?! _

“Uh… Mrs. Potts?”

She groaned groggily. “What are you doing up?”

“What am I doing here?”

Her eyes snapped open. “Oh, honey. You’re in the lake house, remember? You’re not on Titan anymore. You’re safe. It’s 2024 and you’re in your home and you’re safe.”

“No I don’t… uh weird… I mean like, doing here, with you, in a bed.” He looked down, confused even further realizing that the body he was looking down at was not his. And more importantly…

“Where’s my arm? Mrs. Potts. Where’s my arm? Why don’t I have an arm?”

“Please. I… it’s okay,” she pulled him into a tight embrace, running her fingers through his hair.”

As Peter caught his breath, his heart still pounding against his chest, he turned to her. “Where’s Mr. Stark?”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “What?”

“I… you’re here, a-and I’m here, but where’s… where’s Mr. Stark?”

She looked into his eyes with pure confusion. “Tony, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Did you just… did you just call me ‘Tony?’”

.-~*~-.

HONK. CRASH. CLANK. RING RING RING. Y _ eah I’ll be getting back from work at…  _ BUZZ. BUZZ. HONK HONK.  _ -lo caller number one! This is Lunchbox and Morgan Number Tw…  _ BEEP BEEP. BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP. CLANK CRASH CLINK CLONK. - _ ou self-centered, ignorant prick! You can’t just come home at the crack of dawn and act like you…  _ CLINK. CLANK. BUZZ BUZZ. HONK. 

Tony squeezed his eyes in pain, holding his hands to his ears as a futile attempt to silence the cacophony of madness that was berating his eardrums. _ _

“Peter! You’re gonna be late for school!”

Tony couldn’t process anything. His body coiled into itself, unable to unlock his joints as he shook. 

“Peter. C’mon you… oh, sweetie, is it an eleven kinda day?”

Tony couldn’t respond.

“I’ll call the school.”

Tony groaned meekly in response.

“Here, this’ll help.” 

A piece of fabric was placed over his face and tightened around his head, blocking out all the sound that had been attacking his senses. He sighed in relief, relaxing against the tough sheets of the twin bed.

_ Twin bed? _

Tony opened his eyes, blinking slowly, gradually beginning to piece together his whereabouts. 

“May?” Tony croaked, confused.

“Peter, just take it easy, okay? Keep your eyes closed,” she ordered.

_ Peter? Peter. Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Peter.  _ “Okay, Aunt May. Can I call Mr. Stark when I’m feeling better? He said he was working on those sensory deprivation earplugs and said they should be ready.”

“Of course.”

.-~*~-.

“I have to see Peter,” Peter said firmly to Pepper.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You seemed a little discombobulated when you woke up. Plus, you promised Morgan that you’d take her fishing today.”

“I… I promised  _ him _ that we uh, we do suit repairs! He had a big fight and his suit needs repairs and he wants to get back out on patrols so I really have to help him with that.”

“He had a big fight? Enough to ruin his suit? Is he okay?” Pepper asked, concerned.

“I… yeah he’s okay. He got out of it fine, he’s just uh… there was just uh… lasers!”

“Lasers?” she repeated.

“Yeah! Laser… guns! Laser guns that ripped up the suit. So he needs it all uh sewed up.”

“Well, I know it’s been a while since you’ve had a lab day with him, and I know how much you both love them, so I understand that you have to…”

“Okay thank you!” He stumbled as he tried to decide what action to take next, instead settling for an awkward double thumbs up, and head back to their room. “Okay. Okay okay okay. This is… impossible. This is impossible and it can’t be happening because it’s impossible so you just need to…” He froze in the midst of his pacing. He froze because he caught a glimpse of the man in the large circular mirror in the bedroom, and the person staring back at him was not him or Mr. Stark, but a grown man who looked like him but couldn’t be him because that’s not him, he’s him, so who was that, and why was he in the mirror?

When he walked towards the mirror, the mirror man got closer too. When he ran his fingers over the stump where his arm should be, the mirror man did the same. The mirror man had a goatee and wrinkles around his eyes and a big scar on his chest. The mirror man also had curly brown hair and freckles on his shoulders. The mirror man was… him? 

The mirror man was also a little blurry. Well, everything was a little blurry. The whole world was dull and blurry and dim. He wandered around the room, taking notice of Mr. Stark’s sunglasses. Hesitantly, he slid them onto his nose, and the room became exponentially clearer.

He took another look at the mirror man, and the evidence was irrefutable. That was him. Just… older. Different. 

So, body swapping. Out of the picture. A  _ Quantum Leap  _ situation? Well…

“No! No. No no, this is insane. This is completely crazy. You’re going crazy, Peter. You can’t possibly be…” He looked at the mirror man again. “Okay you’re… this was an aging ray! An aging ray that made you older.”  _ And also teleported you into Mr. Stark’s cabin?  _ “Okay. Okay okay this is… this is…” There was a buzz on the birch side table. He creeped over to the phone, eyes widening as he saw the contact. “Hello?”

“Hey, _Mr. Stark,_ so I’m having some major sensory overload, so I was just wondering if it’s okay if I come into the tower and get those earbuds you were making? I know you were trying to _switch_ up the design, but I think we can _talk about it_ _in person._”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark. I’ll see you soon.”

.-~*~-.

May looked at him expectantly. “So he said you can come?”

“Yup. He said he was going to be at the tower in an hour. Just enough time for me to take the subway there…”

“No, I don’t want you going on the subway in the state you’re in. Harold can take you.”

Tony stopped. “What?”

“He has to head to the tower anyways, and he drives you up there anyways. It won’t be any inconvenience.” She leaned in. “Plus, I really want you two to have some guy time together. I know it’s been a little awkward since him and I got together, but he really is trying.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Do you think you are gonna be okay without your…” she motioned to his mask.

“I think I can handle it.”

“Okay. Just let me know, okay?”

He nodded. “Thanks, May.”

She smiled softly before closing the door behind her. Tony collapsed onto the bed. For the first time of the morning, he got to marvel in the wonders of being in his situation. He swung his right around, shaking it out, wiggling his fingers. He {more stuff}

“How am I supposed to get changed?” If he was really in Peter’s body, that would be not only an extreme invasion of privacy, but also something he didn’t want to see. He sighed, and went to check the time when he noticed that the photo was not of Peter but of… him? A young him? 

He rushed to the small bathroom, pulling the mask off of his face, no longer overwhelmed by the noise, but more focused on the sight before him. He was a teen, something he hadn’t been in decades. His skin was smooth and his eyes were big and his hair was thick and dark. It was the {first time} that he noticed how, though he was experiencing a lot of different pain, he felt no sting in his bones. He stretched. No popping in his shoulder. 


End file.
